


The Boy Time Captured

by ANervousBoysLife



Series: Mafia AU [1]
Category: Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate universe - Mafia, Drug Dealing, Drugs, Dubious Consent, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Kidnapping, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 16:00:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11993115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANervousBoysLife/pseuds/ANervousBoysLife
Summary: When Patrick makes his usual trip home from work, he stumbles onto a drug deal that could change his life forever.Prequel to Trophy Boys.





	The Boy Time Captured

**Author's Note:**

> TW FOR DUBCON/NONCON AND KIDNAPPING
> 
> THERE IS NO ONSCREEN SEXUAL SCENES BUT IF YOU ARE ACTUALLY TRIGGERED BY PEOPLE BEING HELD CAPTIVE OR ANYTHING OF SEXUAL NATURE RELATING TO NONCON OR DUBCON DO NOT READ 
> 
> the stumporta mentioned is DUBCON and NOT the main focus of the series, thanks.

The shift at the bookstore had killed Patrick’s back. It hurt to stand and all he wanted was to lay down and sink into his mattress. His eyes burned from reading spines of books just to order them by author. He wanted a nap.

He always took a shortcut, just a few blocks up from the store. It was a small alleyway that cut between streets and saved him about five minutes of walking. He knew the route like the back of his hand and had been taking it home from work for months. He’d never witnessed any suspicious activity. That is, until today.

He rounded his usual corner around a slightly older brick building, only to stop in his tracks. He definitely saw the suspicious looking brown paper bag. And the large briefcase being handed over. It was opened and, yeah, it was full of cash. What the fuck was he seeing? He stumbled back a bit, his feet clumsily making too much noise and drawing the men’s attention. He shouldn’t have picked up the late shift.

Their guns were drawn in an instant and Patrick threw his hands immediately up. “S-sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt I--”

“Can it, scrawny.” One of the men said. He was definitely latino, tall with tan skin and dark hair. “You’ve seen too much already.”

Patrick squeezed his eyes shut. “Pleasedon’tshootme! Please!” He braced himself, but soon enough his hands were pulled behind his back and he was being manhandled towards a car.

“Not gonna shoot ‘ya, short stuff. But ‘cha gonna have to come with me.” He was pressed to the side of the car, his whole body pressed against it as rope, rough and fibery, was tied around his wrists. Once it was securely knotted up, tight enough so Patrick couldn’t wiggle his hands free. 

The man dialed a number on his phone before putting it to his ear. “Boss? Yeah, caught me a lil sucker witnessin’ something he shouldn’t. Takin’ him to base. You’ll wanna see this.” There was some talking on the other side of the line Patrick couldn’t make out. The man gave a few grunts to get across the idea he understood before he hung up.

“It’s ‘ya lucky day, boy. Boss says he wants ‘ta see you. Also lettin’ me do what it takes.” He opened the back door to the sleek black car and tossed Patrick in on his stomach, pushing him so he was laying across all three seats before shutting the door. From this position, it’d be very difficult for him to sit up, and he was likely to roll onto the floor if the brakes were hit hard enough. 

Soon enough, the man was driving and Patrick could feel every turn in the car. He wanted to throw up, scream, or cry, but none of that would get him anywhere. He had to think, and fast. If he could wiggle his way up to the door, he might be able to open it with his chin. 

He started to worm his way up, his head slowly inching closer to the door before the driver slammed on his breaks, muttering what Patrick could only assume were spanish curses. “This traffic’s gonna be the death of me…” He could hear. Patrick toppled onto the floor, sadly landing on his stomach. He groaned, as his lower stomach had landed on the raised section of the floor, knocking the wind out of him. There was no way he was getting up now.

After ten to twenty minutes, Patrick couldn’t tell, the car pulled to a complete stop. The back door opened and soon enough, there were hands wrapping around his ankles, dragging his legs out of the car. The man who captured him stopped halfway, the edge of the car digging into his thighs. 

“Damn, you gotta fine ass.” The man’s large hands skimmed up Patrick’s thighs, over his black skinny jeans, and up to his ass. He gave a small squeeze, chuckling softly when Patrick let out an undignified squeak. “It’s too bad I couldn’t have met ‘ya at a bar or somethin’. You’re too cute to pass up.” He hefted Patrick over his shoulder, causing another squeak to come from the boy’s mouth.

He could tell they weren’t in a densely populated area anymore. The ground was gravel and there weren’t cars rushing by anymore. Screaming was probably useless, but it was his only shot.

He opened his mouth, screaming as loud as he could. Immediately there was a hand clamping over his mouth, muffling his scream into a hum. “No one can hear you, ‘m just saving my ear drums.” He kept his hand there, and Patrick couldn’t find the energy to actually fight back anymore, going limp in his arms. “Good boy…” His captor muttered, carrying him into what appeared to be an empty warehouse.

He was pushed into a chair, his hands wrapped behind it and his legs soon tied to each of the front legs. He couldn’t get out even if he tried, but he wasn’t trying anymore. His fight or flight response had kicked in, but he could do neither, so he gave up, his mind already calling it quits. 

“Now…” The man began, pacing back and forth slowly in front of him, adjusting his cuffs of his suit jacket. “I have total permission to do whatever I want, but before I get into that…” He crouched down in front of Patrick. “My name’s Gabe. I’m your captor. I always want my victims to know who bested them before it’s too late.” 

Gabe stood to his full height, very tall. He looked over Patrick, appraising him. “Cute. You’d look better with your mouth around my cock, hm?” He smirked, his hand going through Patrick’s hair and pulling his head back. Patrick whined and turned his head to the side, not wanting to look at Gabe.

Gabe hummed in appreciation. “You’re lucky, I’m not into it unless the person I’m fucking is.” He let go of his hair, backing up. “I’m supposed to find out everything there is to know about you. So sit tight. You’ll be here a while.” Gabe left the room through a door which was just out of Patrick’s line of sight if he turned his head as far as he could. It was behind him, right in his blindspot.

Once he was alone, he tried his hardest to wiggle his arms up and over the back of the chair, but it just wasn’t working. He was too short. Okay, escaping was not happening while he was tied up like this. What else? He looked around the room. The walls were concrete and there were no windows. The light was coming from fluorescent tube lights, hanging from the metal ceiling. One was flickering off towards the other side of the room. 

He was left for what felt like hours, but there’s no telling how much time had actually passed. His arms had begun to ache, he couldn’t feel his feet. The door opened again, and after ten footsteps he could see it was Gabe again. Maybe, just maybe, the little plan Patrick had formulated in his head would work, if he played his cards right.

“Can I use the bathroom?” He asked quietly, his voice a little shaky.

“No.”

Time for plan B.

“If.. If I suck your dick will you let me? I really need to piss, and my arms and legs hurt really bad. I promise I won’t run…” He looked up at Gabe, biting his lip and using his best puppy dog eyes.

Gabe frowned, obviously having a moral debate over the circumstances. Okay, time to sugar coat it more.

“Please…” Patrick begged, “You’re really hot and as long as you’re clean, I’d really wanna do it. I’d let you do more, but I gotta piss and sucking your dick won’t take that long…” 

Gabe seemed to mull it over, and soon enough his pants were coming undone.

\--

In all actuality, Patrick didn’t mind it. He wasn’t lying when he said he’d do it, just if Gabe hadn’t taken him captive and all that. Either way, Patrick was untied and lead to the bathroom. He wasn’t allowed to be in there alone, but Gabe had the decency to turn his back. That gave Patrick the privacy he needed to move his key to the bookstore he worked at from his pocket to his hand. Gabe hadn’t been smart enough to check his pockets before, too confident in his abilities to tie people up. 

Once Patrick had finished using the restroom, he was brought back out and tied up again. What Gabe had failed to realize is that he now had a good idea of all of the hiding spots between the room he was held in and the bathroom, as well as knowledge of the location of all the windows. And now, he had a way to escape. It’d take time, but he had plenty of it.

Gabe left him alone in the room, and Patrick retrieved the key, using the rigid edge of it to slowly saw at the rope. It would take a while, but with enough perseverance, he knew he could get through it, though he might just ruin his only key to the store. They’d have to make him another.

He was just about to make it through the last of the rope when he heard the door open again. He closed his palm around the key once more and held his breath, hoping that Gabe didn’t notice that he’d almost sawed through the rest of the rope. But as the footsteps made their way around Patrick, he realized this wasn’t gabe.

The man before Patrick was wearing a dark suit. His hair was slicked back and he had on dark sunglasses. He had stubble on his face and gold jewelry adorned his fingers and neck. Slowly, the man removed his sunglasses and appraised Patrick. “Gabe says you’ve got a good mouth…” He began, smirking and letting out a chuckle when Patrick’s cheeks grew redder. “I can definitely see how you’re an attractive man, hm?”

Patrick pretended to give this guy, whoever he was, his full attention while resuming his cutting of the rope. 

“The name’s Pete. Pete Wentz, actually. I run this whole shindig.” He stepped closer. “The boys call me Mania.” He tilted Patrick’s head up with a finger under his chin. “Aren’t you a pretty one… This’ll be a blast…” He went quiet as the sound of the key hitting the concrete filled the room.

“Shit…” Patrick mumbled, his head falling when Pete’s hand left his chin.

Pete slowly stepped back then went around Patrick, head tilted curiously when he saw the key. Maybe if Patrick just pulled his wrists apart quickly…

The rope snapped and fell from around his wrists. Pete was stunned in shock of what he’d just seen that he didn’t anticipate the punch that hit him square in the jaw. It was enough for him to stumble back and give Patrick enough time to free his legs which were poorly tied to the chair.

Once he was on his feet, Pete was watching him, a smile on his face. That stopped Patrick in his tracks. 

“What the fuck are you smiling about?” Patrick asked, a hint of worry in his voice. Did he miss something, was he totally fucked and going to die in some warehouse, cold and alone?

Pete just laughed softly, clapping his hands. “You remind me of myself when I was a bit younger. I’m only twenty seven, but man, do seven years change you. You look about twenty, am I right?”

Patrick was definitely confused. “Twenty-two…” He shook his head, “Wait a minute, you’re, like, not gonna kill me?” He frowned but didn’t relax at all. 

“Nah…” He shrugged. “You just witnessed a drug deal. But, I can’t just let you go. You totally proved you can think on your feet, and I need someone like that in my company. That was a cool little move you pulled. So, you in?” He posed the question, a hand outstretched. 

“Sorry…” Patrick began, “but I’ll have to decline. ‘M not cut out for crime and stuff.”

Pete shrugged. “Then can I get your number? Promise I won’t, like, tie you to chairs and stuff anymore. I can prove myself. I’d kick myself if I didn’t take the chance to get a cute guy like yourself to give me your number.”

Patrick didn’t know what came over him, but he gave Pete his number. He was in a daze as Pete drove him in his (super nice, super expensive) car to his apartment building. He was still dazed as he walked into the building and into his apartment, even as he fell into bed.

The next morning, he didn’t even regret texting back.


End file.
